Tell Me
by Sith Happens
Summary: Answer to a challenge by A Hotter Kiss A Better Touch. Rated M for Mucho Graphic-ness and slashy-yumminess. Hope you enjoy


-1**A/N: This is answer to a challenge given to me by A Hotter Kiss A Better Touch. Not sure if this is what she was going for, but it's what came into my head at the time I started writing this. Kisses also told me it was a requirement to make this one pretty graphic, but then my Connor and Murphy gave me puppy-dog eyes, so I hope I found a happy medium.**

**The story's inspired by the song "I'll Be" by Edwin McCain. Connor's POV though I'm not even going to try to type everything out the way he'd say it out loud. So, let's just pretend that when Connor writes something down, he uses at least partially proper English haha**

_--_

"**I'll Be" -- Edwin McCain**

_The strands in your eyes that color them wonderful _

_Stop me and steal my breath _

_Emeralds from mountains thrust toward the sky _

_Never revealing their depth _

_Tell me that we belong together _

_Dress it up with the trappings of love _

_I'll be captivated _

_I'll hang from your lips _

_Instead of the gallows of heartache that hang from above _

_I'll be your crying shoulder _

_I'll be your love suicide _

_and I'll be better when I'm older _

_I'll be the greatest fan of your life _

_Rain falls angry on the tin roof _

_As we lie awake in my bed _

_You're my survival, you're my living proof _

_My love is alive not dead _

_Tell me that we belong together _

_Dress it up with the trappings of love _

_I'll be captivated I'll hang from your lips _

_Instead of the gallows of heartache, that hang from above _

_I'll be your crying shoulder _

_I'll be your love suicide _

_and I'll be better when I'm older _

_I'll be the greatest fan of your life _

_I've been dropped out, burned up, fought my way back from the dead _

_Tuned in, turned on, Remembered the things that you said _

_I'll be your crying shoulder _

_I'll be your love suicide _

_and I'll be better when I'm older _

_I'll be the greatest fan of your life _

_--_

"Tell me again, Murph," I whispered against my brother's pale chest, fingers dancing along his hip as I kissed the low spot between his pecks.

Stealing a glance up at his face, I saw him giving me that mischievous smile of his that always coiled my insides like a snake ready to lunge. His long, artist's fingers combed through my hair as he answered my request. "I love ye, Conn. An' nothin' in this wide fuckin' world could keep us apart. No man, nor gun, nor bullet could ever keep me from ye. Ye're mine an' ye always will be. Just as I'll always be yers."

With a crooked grin, I slid up his body to smother his mouth in a kiss. Both our chests heaved for air when I broke the kiss and gave a chuckling whisper. "I love it when ye talk all poetic-like."

"Ye're startin' ta sound like Smecker, ye know tha'," Murphy laughed, pulling me closer against him.

"Ah, fuck ye, Murph," I rolled my eyes as I tried to hide the smirk my face was trying to show.

"Thought ye just did," was my beloved brother's catty, rather smug response.

I couldn't help but laugh outright at that. The things my brother and I did to each other were sinful and numerous, but that never stopped us. I don't think there's anything in the universe that could stop the liquid pull my beautiful Murphy had upon my body, heart, and soul. Every time I looked at him I felt, especially when I found myself gazing into his eyes. People told us sometimes that the only thing that made us look like brothers were the eyes, but I never did and never will believe that. Murphy's were so much more attractive, they caught every ray of light and sparkled, and in the darkness, they sometimes looked a bit green. I loved that way they lit up when I touched him unexpectedly and darkened when the touch became more than that.

"Ye're so fuckin' beautiful, Murph," I found myself again whispering as I looked down at him, brushing strands of hair away from his forehead.

His eyes scanned between both of mine, as if trying to read my expression. The pure love that shown on his face sent a shiver up my spine just as he hooked a hand behind my neck and pulled my face down to kiss me. My hand was still splayed across his chest, and I used it to pull away from him after a few moments. He gave me a bewildered look, eyes half-lidded in pleasure. I could only smirk at him as my lips traveled down his neck and chest and further still. A lovely hiss left him when he felt my warm, wet mouth press against his already-forming erection. Amidst his gasps and moans, I kissed and licked and nibbled him, coaxing him harder and harder until I thought sure he would explode whether or not I continued.

Normally, I would have made everything last, stretched my brother's tremendous willpower to a razor-fine edge with every tease I could muster. But we were both well aware that we had other things to be doing that night and couldn't spend all the time we wanted to on one another. So I did exactly what I knew it would take to please my lover as quickly as possible. Wrapping my lips around him, I took him deep into the back of my throat, swallowing as my tongue brushed across his sensitive skin. My award was the quick sight of my brother's back arching off the bed.

I continued my ministrations, the sounds of Murphy whimpering and moaning as he gripped the back of my hair urged me faster and faster. Then finally, I heard him whisper a combination of what seemed to be his two favorite words.

_"Oh, fuck, Connor! Connor, oh Connor! Fuck!"_

My lips slid away from him, my tongue licking him clean before I swallowed it all down. As I glanced up at his face, I could see the beautiful image of my brother with his head thrown back, chest rising and falling quickly, still trembling a little. Content in the pleasure I had given him, I was about to roll off the mattress and start dressing for the night's activities, but Murphy leaned up in a flash and pulled me backwards onto the mattress. Before I could protest, he pressed me onto my back, covering my lips with a possessive kiss as he used a knee to part my legs and crawl between them.

"I'll not be lettin' ye go unsatisfied, brother," Murphy whispered against my neck before sinking his teeth in a little. I hissed, but couldn't deny the arousing feeling of his soft-skinned stomach brushing across my hard flesh. His fingers caressed and groped between our bodies before he began stroking me quickly. His other hand held my head back as he kissed and licked and gently bit along my neck and collarbone. After seeing my brother's release, I wasn't far behind and it wasn't long before I came hard, whimpering his name softly.

With a devious smirk, he brought his hand to his lips and licked them clean. Then he slid down my chest and I watched through half-lidded eyes as his tongue skimmed across the fluids on my stomach. I gave a low groan, especially when he leaned over me once more, kissing me hard so that I could taste myself on his tongue.

"Ye're so fuckin' beautiful, Conn," he snickered softly against my lips, making me smile.

Pressing my hand to the side of his face, I ran my thumb along his cheekbone. "I love ye, Murph."

--

Later, Murph and I sat crouched behind a counter in a dingy motel not far from our home. We were told by a somewhat reputable source that a couple of murdering drug dealers would be coming into this particular room to do a business deal. We'd been waiting there for a while and I could feel the anxiousness pouring out of my brother in waves. I had to admit, I was getting a bit antsy as well.

Soon, however, the door burst open and we could hear several people filing in. We glanced at each other when we both simultaneously realized that there were more people in the room than we bargained for. A split second thought told me we should try to sneak out through the bathroom. The two of us could always come back later when there were fewer people, or try them separately after they had all left.

But no, my beautiful, heroic, idiot brother decided that being grossly outnumbered wasn't that big of a deal. He was up on his feet, firing his Glock before I had even had a chance to stop him. The element of surprise was enough that Murphy had taken out several of the unwary men, but soon they regrouped and retaliated. By then, I was up and firing as well, aiming as best I could amidst the flying couch and bed material and the shattering bottles of booze.

We had managed to kill or incapacitate most of the men, though a few still stood and we were running out of ammunition in our clips. That's when I heard the two most heart-wrenching sounds I've ever experienced in my life. My brother's gun clicked angrily as it fired its last bullet followed closely by the sound of Murphy crying out in pain.

"Murph!" I screamed as loudly as my lungs could withstand, firing a few more shot before dropping to my brother's side.

He was clutching his jacket over his chest, trying to reload his gun as the bullets still whizzed over our heads. Already he looked pale and twitchy, hissing with every movement he made. As I reached down to help him, Murphy gave me a hard glare. "I'm fine, Conn. Kill the bastards so we can go home."

He pushed his reloaded gun into my hands and nudged me away when I tried once more to check his wounds. "Just fuckin' go kill 'em, Conn. Jaysus!"

With a look of regret, I did as he said. I waited until there was a lull in the return fire. Perhaps they had run out of bullets, or maybe they thought they had killed us both. Whatever the reason, when I stood I was able to pick them all of with a few choice shots without getting hit myself. As the dust quite literally settled around the room, I bent down to see to Murphy again. He was clutching his jacket tighter, shivering a bit, but managed to get to his feet without my help.

"Let's get back home 'fore the cops show up," he hissed as he wrapped an arm around my shoulder.

When I went to pull his jacket open, he smacked my hand away. "No time for that. I'll let ye tend me wounds when we're home safe an' sound."

That worried me more than anything. I could handle Murphy being a bit injured, but I knew it must have been bad if he wouldn't let me take the time to see it. But he was right about getting out of there. The last thing we needed was for the cops to pick us up over a few lowlife drug dealers. So, I half-dragged him home as leaned heavily on me for support. The going was slower than usual, but Murphy seemed fairly able to keep up. I took this as a good sign. But when I saw his hand pull away from his jacket to grab the doorknob for the apartment building, I could see it coated dark with blood.

Once inside our room, I laid him on my mattress and started to peel his coat away. What I found there made terror curl deep in my gut. "Christ Murph! They've blown yer whole fuckin' side ta shit!"

"Ah, it's not as bad as all tha'," he mumbled through dry lips. A soft chuckle escaped his sweat slicked and ghostly white face as he shivered again. "But fuckin' Christ I'm cold, Connor."

"Yer goin' inta shock," I replied, gathering up the cleanest part of the bed sheet I could find and packing it against his chest. But it seeped through quickly and I nearly gasped in horror. He was bleeding out so quickly, and I didn't know how much longer he could stay conscious. "I'll go get the fuckin' iron, maybe we can stop the bleedin'."

"No, Connor, please," he hissed, grabbing my shirt and pulling me to him. Murphy was shaking so badly as he clutched at me. "Please, just hold me fer a minute. I'm so cold."

"Murph," I whispered hoarsely, feeling my eyes filling up with tears that I refused to shed. His voice was too soft, too weak, like he was slipping away from me even as I held him. "I've got ta stop the bleedin' er ye'll die!"

"Just fuckin' hold me Connor," he barely breathed against my cheek. "I love ye, but I'm so fuckin' cold."

Then suddenly, he fell limp against me and that terrified me. Pulling him back, I shook him a little. "C'mon, Murph. Ye gotta stay awake."

His head just lolled backwards, his long fingers falling away from my shirt.

"Murph," I repeated, trying to keep the shattering sadness out of my voice as I shook him harder. "Murphy!"

But there was no response.

--

I stood staring down at my brother's empty mattress. The sheets were still mussed from when I had brought him home, bleeding all over the place. I had tried cleaning up some, but his sheet still had a bright red stain on it. Obviously time to splurge and buy a new one, but I just didn't have the will to do it right then.

I don't believe I ever cried so much as I did that night. Well, maybe when Rocco died, but even then, I think I cried harder the night my brother was shot. It was horrific, seeing his body fall back against the bed, eyes glazed over, and I knew there would be no divine trumpets heralding his departure, no profound words to hasten the sting of his loss. It was just "I'm cold, Conn. Hold me." Maybe those words were profound in themselves, but not enough for the death of my brother…

"Oi, Conn, ye fucker! If ye don't get yer arse in 'ere an' eat yer fuckin' food's gonna get cold!"

So, it was a good thing the little bastard didn't die that night. Turning to go to the table, I saw Murphy standing there, picking at a container of Chinese food with chopsticks held expertly in his fingers. He couldn't sit down because the wounds on his side hurt too much, though there was no possibility of them reopening. I had cauterized them after he passed out that night, though the iron was taking too long to heat up. I ended up using his combat knife and my zippo, though the blade cut my fingers up a bit.

"Conn, ye best start eatin' 'er I'll just end up stuffin' meself with everythin'," Murphy warned playfully, taking a peek into my container of food. "My, but that does look tasty."

"Take whatever ye want, Murph," I coaxed with a small smile.

He had slept for a whole day after I'd stopped his bleeding, his pulse thready and weak most of the night. I stayed curled up next to him in bed, arms wrapped around him to keep him warmed, crying and praying he would be alright. But the next day, I woke up to soft, familiar fingers against my face and a hoarse whisper of "Conn, I'm hungry." I cried even harder then, and I don't care if it makes me look like a sap because I was just so happy and relieved to have my brother back. He had been eating everything in sight since then.

With a smile, he hastily motioned me beside him at the table. I grinned when he used those chopsticks to feed me a bit of my own food before he had a few bites. My ever-wonderful Murphy had probably noticed that I still hadn't been eating much for his sake.

"Murph," I said softly, pressing my chin on his shoulder as gently as possible. "Tell me again?"

He turned in my arms slowly, and I almost begged him to stop to keep from hurting himself, but he was intent on looking me in the eye. The hand on his good side raised and cupped my neck gently as he pressed our foreheads together.

"I love ye, Conn," he whispered. "An' nothin' in this wide fuckin' world could keep us apart. No man, nor gun, nor bullet could ever keep me from ye. Ye're mine an' ye always will be. Just as I'll always be yers."

I shivered at his words and he kissed me, slow and tender with the taste of beef and mushrooms in brown sauce still on his lips.

**A/N: If it's not too much trouble, could someone please review for me? It would make me oh-so happy and grateful! Hugs, -Sithy**


End file.
